Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from India and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Red Krayola to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terrestrial Tones,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
H. Thieme,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
The Angels of Light,
A Certain Ratio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
June Days,
Quadrant,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Byrd,
Accadde A,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
World's Most,
Morten Harket,
Babytalk,
Metal Thangz,
Minutemen,
The Martian,
Ten City,
The Kinks,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Whodini,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Sneak,
Judy Mowatt,
The Human League,
Anakelly,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
Monolake,
Roger Hodgson,
The Searchers,
Josef K,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Section 25,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Order,
Crime,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Von Mondo,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.